Serpent's Heir
by PantherLydi
Summary: After the war, Sasuke discovers an interesting detour in his lineage. It would seem that his association with snakes didn't come from Orochimaru entirely after all. Honestly, he was sick and tired of seeing his relatives waging wars, so he decided to put a stop to it. The only problem was - it was not his place to stop the 'Dark Lord' - but rather his new classmate's.
1. Chapter I

**Summary:** _After the war, Sasuke discovers an interesting detour in his lineage. It would seem that his association with snakes didn't come from Orochimaru entirely after all. Honestly, he was sick and tired of seeing his relatives waging wars, so he decided to put a stop to it. The only problem was - it was not his place to stop the 'Dark Lord' - but rather his new classmate's. A lot of annoyance ensured as the last Uchiha tries to deal with the residential suspicious trio on his heel and the ever present cloud of his family's problematic tendencies raging on in a universe full of twats waving sticks back and forth. Slytherin'sHeir!Sasuke_

 **Rating:** _T for light cursing, violence, minor mention of rape._

 **Pairing:** _Sasuke/Multi_

 **Disclaimer:** _I do not own Naruto or Harry Potter. All rights reserved to the original creators._

 **Warning:** _Spoilers for Naruto's ending in the first few chapters + a bit of OOC moments here and there. Slight Dumbledore bashing._

 **A/N:** _I'm not sure if a story with a similar plot already exists due to me not reading that much Naruto/Harry Potter crossovers, so I will apologize beforehand if the overall plotline matches someone else's work. I had wanted to do my own take on Sasuke in Hogwarts, considering I had a huge urge to write from his point of view for a long time. He's a fascinating character in my eyes and I hope I'll do him justice. Note: because this will be set after the Forth Shinobi War, Sasuke will have a need to get some sort of redemption for the sins he has committed, so don't be so surprised at his slightly OOC demeanour._

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 _ **/An•guis/**_

 **Noun – Latin**

 _1\. a long limbless reptile that has no eyelids, a short tail, and jaws that are capable of considerable extension. Some snakes have a venomous bite._

 _2\. a treacherous or deceitful person._

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 **Chapter I**

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 _ **D**_ ark brows furrowed in silent irritation as rustling paper accommodated the rowdiness of the dusty pub downstairs. A young man sat in the dimly lit corner of his rented room with shrewd intent to read through the quite big stack of ancient books on the barely standing heavily aged desk. He skimmed over them, selectively absorbing and rapidly scanning the information for his own personal use as the column of tied up paper grew shorter by the minute.

To any other person, it would have seemed he was flipping over the pages absently, as if not quite finding what he needed. But the dull tint of red in his charcoal eyes told another story as he flickered over yet another book. With every brush of his long dark eyelashes across his high cheekbones, a mental camera shutter resounded in his mind, imprinting the words deep within his memory. When the letters ceased to make sense to him, he reached his prosthetic hand towards a small container of pills by a discarded scroll on the table surface, his real limb lost from a frivolous war that came and went. He flexed his fingers, getting used to the alien feel that came with the action as his slightly unfeeling fingertips grasped the lid of the tiny plastic jar.

Popping the tablet-like pill into his awaiting mouth, he bit down a shiver from the foul taste on his liver. His taste buds protested as the tablet slid through them, yet the benefit of keeping the knowledge of the English language in his head was too good to pass up simply because he didn't like the bitter taste of the pill.

Keeping the artificial fingers pressed to his thin lips, he glanced at the glimmering bronze rimmed ring on his index finger. He could tell by the pulsing energy radiating from the stone that it had a special use of sort which he was not aware of. The bronze band hugging his skin seemed to be quite recently forged due to the barely noticeable signs of tampering around the edges of the dark stone, a few flecks of golden edging could be seen here and there, as if it was ripped out of something sloppily or without a care.

The man who gave him this ring – his family's heirloom of sort he was told – was Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin first class, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.

Whatever half those titles were supposed to mean, he wasn't the least bit interested.

The corners of his lips turned down as he grasped a heavily aged parchment in his hands. His eyes raked meticulously across the names recorded on the paper for what seemed like the billionth time, frown deepening when the extended branch of family from his mother's side of things glared back at him in angry black ink. He knew it was ridiculous to keep such an outrageously dangerous parchment that could cause him unnecessary trouble in a shady place such as this, yet he did not fret for he was the only one in a few mile radius who wrote or even spoke the 'Japanese' language it was written in.

The name of Uchiha Mikoto's father in particular had caught his attention.

He leaned back into his less than comfortable chair, trying to recall any mention of the name in his childhood, yet found blankness in his stead. It was now clear to him that there was nothing to be proud of to be related to the man – he was seemingly unstable from the centuries of inbreeding documented in one of the books he just set down – and the fact that there was no line drawn between the man and Kito – his grandmother – made him believe that his mother was conceived in a not entirely consented way.

His fingers, real and prosthetic, clenched the edges of the table in barely hidden fury, knuckles going a pale shade of white at the prospect of somebody laying a hand on one of his family members. Even if it's his own blood, he proved from time to time again that he was quite able to side against his own family members if the circumstances required to.

If only he had known just what kind of people his mother's family were before he touch that damn box – that damn _**portkey**_.

The male, between fifteen and seventeen, from an unclear ethnic group sat behind stacks of books that where placed on a broken table, fragments of the shattered wooden surface hanging for dear life by threads. Charcoal eyes, accommodated with the same shade of hair peered under an equally dark hood, glaring holes at the scattered pages resting on the desk before him.

The rigid sound right under his right arm snapped his attention to the damage he had caused to the pub's establishment, a quick wave of surprise washed over his form to see it repaired and as good as new. The owner – Tom, if he recalled correctly – did say that the furniture in the aged rooms had a self-fixing charm of sort placed on them, due to financial issues that yet needed to be taken care of.

He studied the almost good as new surface where he placed his right elbow on, wondering about all the other different mechanisms of magic.

Magic – he'll have to admit, was throughout useful in many ways, more or so. It could fix, and expand space, even make things levitate without much effort. Yet, it could never compare to the range of destruction and power chakra could produce. It was a shame that these people – these _wizards_ – would be left powerless without the item that would stabilize their magical energy to burst out of their limbs, unlike shinobi that used their bodies alone to force the chakra out into the environment without further reinforcement. In case of a war, the chakra he was so found of would be a far greater force to recon with, yet magic made mundane life so much easier. Sasuke could spend the whole of the afternoon making parallels and comparisons of the two, but 'the laws of the Ministry of Magic volume one' at the bottom of the stack was a far more pressing matter if he ever wanted to not make an appearance in the Ministry's radar.

He flipped open the leather confinement of yet another book – this one speaking of the peculiar subject of the Dark Arts – but before his mind could register a single word, his elbow jerked slightly as a ripped envelope floated slowly to the creaking flooring.

He pushed his Sharingan to activate, ruby coloring the black in an alarming rate as the invitation in his hand started to weight his fingers with invisible weight. This was another arguably good reason for his deep regret of coming to this place – this whole other dimension – for he didn't look forward to this time consuming – or wasting – stay in Albus Dumbledore's watchful gaze 24/7.

How he had belted himself this deep into a mess he could not control was beyond his comprehension. His luck was rotten; he knew that ever since he was a small child – but to get dragged into a web of salty affairs of a society full of sychophants and hypocrites – he must be cursed by the foulest of Gods. He had nothing to gain out of this – well maybe except new knowledge and the doubtfully large amount of annoyance and headaches – so he could care less about the brewing war that was coming to wash the people into unnecessary bloodshed.

He had already fought his war; he didn't feel the blinded urge to repeat it. And yet, a small part of him knew that his lack of concern for the people he wasn't even associated to wouldn't mud his conscious if it came down to that. Dumbledore and his foolish little Order was just a torn in his side that thought they had the authorized power to command his path of choice.

Oh, how meticulously wrong they are if they thought that the last living Uchiha would bow down to such an obvious attempt of manipulation. He had experienced a fair amount of that in his short sixteen years of living, and he was determined not to let history repeat itself anytime soon. He decided that he'll play his established game though – he'll amuse the old coot of a wizard with the false sense of trust that he'll convey to him. But in truth, he will come out with the most benefit between the two of them. The fat pouch full coins near his bedside given to him to buy resources for himself was proof of that.

This, however, left Sasuke feeling completely irritated. With the lack of finance of this community that his extinct family didn't leave behind, he had to live off of Dumbledore's ever so gracious support. He'll have to make himself his own person – otherwise he'll start feeling rather indebted to the old wizard. Debts can sink people faster than most things and he was hoping he'll swim out of it before he has the chance of using the opportunity to pull Sasuke's feet further under the water.

And yet, he couldn't shake off the feeling that some of Dumbledore's puppeteering strings were slowly attaching themselves to him for the lack of knowledge Sasuke possessed of the wizarding world. A shrewd smirk curved up his lips when he imagined the utter surprised look that would grace his wrinkly face when he'll realized that the Uchiha was a force to reckon with. He already ate through the theory portion of some of the subjects he knew he'll need in his further studies at this proclaimed wizarding school, but the practical part of things were still unknown waters to him.

He has yet to obtain a stic– _**wand**_ – to cast spells, but either way if he did possess a wand at his disposal; there was a strict law that concerned underage magic which would prevent him from doing so anyways. He was told that he'll have to wait until he was on Hogwarts' grounds to legally use magic, which was absurd in his eyes. Back home, small children needed to train and learn just to reserve their life to pass through their teenage years, but here – it was peaceful.

That ticked him of for one reason or another.

Releasing a silent breath, he rubbed the pinch between his brows, setting the book he was almost finished going through next to the huge scroll containing his family tree in great detail. Another concern flooded his mind about Dumbledore. From what he could tell – and the unspoken words when he gave Sasuke the ring were anything to go by – he clearly had been associated with his family in one way or another. He felt rather foolish now for doing something that usually only Naruto would do. He had babbled to the old wizard, which was one of the biggest slip ups he had let himself consciously do.

However, the sudden light about his heritage had sparked the Headmaster's undivided attention to him, which was rather suspicious and quite obvious that he was missing out on some great important detail that he had missed during his ventures to the library in Diagon Alley. Ever since the conversation he had with Dumbledore, he had been keeping an eye on him, as if at any second he would spin around and do something rather volatile in front of the rest of the Order who were oblivious of the words that had been spoken between the two in private.

It was a rather stupid mistake, he'll admit, but he knew that slithering beneath his current predicament was fairly easy enough. Obviously, Dumbledore hasn't told his allies about his lineage – considering the incredulous stories he had read about his more than unstable family – for good reason. It was to keep him safe, or so he was expected to see it in this light. No, it was to keep him safe as his secret weapon. He wasn't blind; he saw that the old wizard knew something rather important that if he didn't find out as soon as he could, it could cause him harm.

Sasuke clenched his good hand, blowing out the dripping wax candle on the lithered desk. He was made aware that customary protective wards were placed on every single room for the stayer's personal safety, making the slight kink in his back relax slightly. He knew his research was safe, but just to make sure – he stashed the thick scroll containing names that he would rather keep to himself into the drawer of the desk that creaked in protest with every inch he pulled out. Shutting the wooden drawer shut, Sasuke walked to the back of the room where the bed was located in, figuring he should get some rest before returning to Diagon Alley to finish his errands.

In the blanket of the night, the beams of moonlight shone onto the desk, making its way into the drawer through the slim crack where the ancient parchment that the young man placed laid. If somebody looked closely enough, the pitch black ink seeped into the other side of the thin paper where the names of his mother's parents –' _ **Kito** **Uchiha**_ ' and _**'Morfin Gaunt'**_ – could be made out. From the name of the man, a barely visible line connected with another name, signalling a sibling link between the two. From there on, the name of Morfin's sister _**'Merope Gaunt'**_ connected with another indicating a more intimate relation, before yet another line of branch went down to the last name in his mother's separate little family branch.

' _ **Tom Marvolo Riddle'**_


	2. Chapter II

**A/N:** _Thank you everyone for your amazing feedback! I returned to the last chapter to tinker up some confusions with Sasuke's lineage in the last paragraph, so be sure to check that out, because I'm sure that might leave some unanswered questions which I'm not sure I'll dive into in the future._

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 _ **/An•guis/**_

 **Noun – Latin**

 _1\. a long limbless reptile that has no eyelids, a short tail, and jaws that are capable of considerable extension. Some snakes have a venomous bite._

 _2\. a treacherous or deceitful person._

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 **Chapter II**

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 _ **A**_ single pale finger rose from the shadows of his cloak to touch the slightly damp brick wall. A light sunshower had rained down during the earlier hours of the morning, causing several stray puddles to form here and there. Even though the small courtyard was shielded from the sun at this hour, Sasuke still didn't feel the cold that came with the transition from one season to the other. Adding a henge over his eyes that were colored brilliant scarlet to make them appear dark obsidian to any passenger, he tapped the required bricks for the gateway before him to open.

He had quite a bit of trouble the first time he came around. He could see the chakra flow of which of the stones he needed to tap, but the order was a puzzle to him for a few good minutes before the pesky entrance had opened. Now, however, the bricks moved away on their own accord from his first try, giving him a generous view of the colorful alley full of wizards and witches alike.

He had waited till noon to come down from his rented room at the Leakey Cauldron, gathering the pouch of coins into his loose pockets. It was easier to go around more freely when the tiny shop-filled alley was more crowded, considering he could blend in without receiving so much as a second glance. His dark eyes traced the outlines of all the different establishments, his free hand stuffing itself in his other pocket to retrieve the list of things he has yet to possess.

Scanning the written words that had not yet received a brutal slash across them, he raised his head up to survey his surroundings, turning a corner while unconsciously avoiding any unnecessary stops due to the almost suffocating amount of magic folks around him. From the corner of his dark eyes he saw a flash of the quite extraordinary looking bank that he had visited a handful of days ago. His eyebrow raised in a gesture reminiscent of the previous time he had laid his gaze upon the building.

An elaborate looking key had sat in the old wooden portkey box that his grandmother had left behind. He traced the pattern of it, examining the piece of metal with his blood red eyes, yet he did not understand the purpose of the lock turner lying on his desk. Well, that was until the old coot had indulged him of one of the many customs they had in this odd society. Yes, odd. When his artificial fingers brushed across the pattern for one last final time, he decided that this was just another oddity that he won't dive deeply into.

Another key – almost identical to the other – weighted in his pocket besides the other as he turned another corner, his cloak swishing in the wind. He still had to make sure just how much his upbringing has left him with and he recalled that he was mildly surprised when a generous pile of galleons stared back at him from the place he stood by the entrance to the Gaunt vault. He guessed that by ancient pureblood family standards, this little amount of fortune was a laughing stock in comparison, but the handful of coins in between his fingers would get him through fairly well. In his defense, it was the ever intact instinct whispering enticingly into his ear that compelled him to request a vault all to himself, as if the jab of intuition had depicted the possibility that he wasn't the last of his kin to have opened the safe in more than fifty years.

Walking past Gringotts, Sasuke glanced up at the rather tall shop standing in front of him, the damp wooden sign gleaming in the rare occurrence of sunlight. Even with the help of the natural lighting, the Uchiha had to squint to make out the peeling golden letters embarked into the wood. Popping another pill into his awaiting mouth, the words started to make much more sense to him.

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 _ **Ollivanders**_

 _ **Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.**_

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Traversing the rest of the stone path in six quick strides, he found his fingers encircling the polished knob of the wand shop. His anticlimactic entrance was accommodated with the faint shimmering of the bell located above the door. Lowering the black hood from his equally dark hair with his prosthetic hand, he glanced around the narrow shop with disdain. Steely eyes caught sight of movement somewhere from the back of the store behind piles on piles of small long boxes, before an elderly man emerged, making his presence officially known.

His pale silvery eyes met the youth's judging hard gaze which scanned his face for any and every nuance and reaction from the aged shop keeper. Ollivander sized the teenager up, letting a disarming smile to dance like a moth around the corners of his mouth.

''You're an odd one, aren't you?'' The man mused to himself more than speaking directly to the dark haired male, making Sasuke's fingers twitch in annoyance as the words that he himself would've spoken to the man was shot at him. Dark lashes protected his irises from the floating dust as the young man blinked when the shop owner scurried off somewhere to the back once more. He emerged from one of the shabby corners of his store moments later, whipping out a measure tape as he strode to the Uchiha.

''Now, which is your wand hand, Mr. Uchiha?'' Said male sucked in a breath of surprised at the grinning man hovering above him, a puzzle of wonder solving in his mind as of how he had known him, before even the henge placed upon his cursed eyes couldn't suppress the furious glint of crimson from coloring his eyes momentarily.

Of course, the babbling fool of a Headmaster was at fault, once again.

''My right one.'' The hardened clipped tone which resounded in the small shop did nothing to handicap the older wizard's excitement. A few months back, he would've said his left hand, but due to some unorthodox complication and a lost limb, he was led to believe that it was far safer to use his own flesh hand to push chakra out through a seemingly unnecessary wooden stick.

The loud snap of Ollivander's measuring tape brought him out of his slight daze, silver markings only a blur as the long tape returned to its default state. He was staring at the floating magical object with a burning expression as the elderly wizard reached his wrinkled hand to grasp a random dusty box from the shelf on his left. Predictably, the object he wished to purchase rested inside the pillows of the box.

''Ah, this one, this one I'm sure! Very fitting for a young lad of your calibre.'' Sasuke gingery grasped the length of the fairly long black wand, looking down at the unique carvings of the dark wood. He wondered from what the older wizard judged which wand was who's, but shrugged it off. He looked back up at Ollivander with an unwavering gaze which would unnerve quite a few people, but the elderly man frowned down at him from his spot several feet away.

''So? What are you waiting for? Give it a flick, boy!'' With a sharp turn of his right wrist that connected with the fingers that encircled the delicate wood, a jet of dust shot out from one of his sides. He didn't know if the flying boxes from his left was a good sign, but judging by the determined glint in those ancient looking pale eyes, the young man knew this might be more time consuming than he originally thought.

''No, no. Phoenix feathers aren't the way to go, I suppose.'' The wandmaker took the oak wood out of his loosened grip, cradling the wand into the previously discarded box almost lovingly. Sasuke suspected that the old man had a deep infatuation with wandlore, but chose not comment on it as another – more lighter in color, almost white – wand was thrust into the awaiting flesh of his palm.

''Try this one! 8.75 inches should do the trick, even if it's a bit short. Unicorn hair is a great core to have if you seek consistent magic.''

Which apparently, he did not, judging by the shattering windows raining down onto the shop's floorboards.

With a flick of his own, Ollivander muttered an incantation, before the shards of glass reassembled to their original state. He shook his head disapprovingly. Taking the wood from Sasuke's hold, he placed it back into the velvety pillow of its container.

''I was so sure that Yew wood would do you justice, considering your background.'' The wizard drawled on as he closed the lid shut, oblivious to the heterochromic eyes glaring at his turned back under dark messy bangs of hair. His fingers itched to form the needed hand signs for a decent size Chidori if the old man proved to know too much. Taking a deep, yet rather quiet breath of mostly dusty air, Sasuke tried to calm his nerves.

''Ah, how curious..'' The Uchiha looked up at the man who held up yet another wand from the countless stacks of boxes from one of the shelves, this time a wood that he recognized without the wizard uttering a single word.

''Cherry wood, highly prized in your home country as you may know. Yet this particular combination of this certain wood and dragon heartstring is a very hard one to team up with. Now, boy, let's test the strength of your mind.'' Sasuke trailed his eyes over the deep red wood as flashes of his pink haired teammate who never received the words she so desperately desired passed by his mind.

With the already familiar motion of his wrist, white – almost yellow – flares shot from the tip, illuminating the shabby store for a fleeting number of seconds. The quick flash of blonde hair and cerulean eyes disappeared from his clouded vision, rather being replaced with a wrinkle filled face that was lit up by a brandish grin. Ollivander's pale eyes twinkled as he spoke.

''My, you really are an odd one, aren't you?''

The only answer the old, chuckling man received was the required amount of galleons for the payment of the wand, before his front door's bells resounded through his once again empty store.

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 _ **S**_ mall first year children yet to come to Hogwarts squeaked as he looked down at them, before stepping out of his way urgently. The adults of different blood purity alike glared at the black cloak trailing behind the male who rudely trudged past them into the pet store without waiting in line. Hidden eyes under the ever present hood scurried the interior, before one side of his lips turned down from the sheer volume of screeching that the animals and children emitted. He glanced at the low quality cages, appraising each allowed pet with a hard, meticulous glint.

A frown pinched itself between his eyebrows when he realized that most of the available animals were none other than tailless amphibians. A small sneer appeared on his pale face as he surveyed the rest of his pet options, which were lacking greatly in his opinion. He was not, under any circumstances, buying a slimy grit toad that the loud annoyance named Naruto would have. Even the slugs that the Sannin women used were much more enticing than the croaking creatures in their cages.

Or maybe that was long time rivalry speaking instead of his consciousness.

Either way, he rose from his crouching position to his full height with all the intent to leave the stuffed store empty handed. He already had enough pets – or summonings – as it is, and the toads and cats were nothing special compared to the ones back in the Elemental Nations. The only animals that seemed remotely useful to him were the owls, but even with their grace, messages could be easily intercepted with the right trick.

The sun had already hid when he exited the pet store, leaving a breezing cold wind in its wake. Crumbling the list of necessities that he needed for his Fifth – technically First – year at Hogwarts, he strode back to his rented room at the pub. Withdrawing several books from his cloak's confines while walking in a leisurely pace, he turned several newly printed pages of the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook before pausing in his steps.

Theory. Theory, theory, theory.

Was he going to sit several hours a week listening to some old sycophant gushing about defensive theory without a single ounce of practical work?

Growling quietly under his breath, he shoved the book back under his artificial arm before flipping through a transfiguration textbook. Transfiguration was quite fascinating in his opinion, due to the shrewd observation that he had not known of such art before joining – or falling – into this community. You could turn one thing to another with just the correct incantation, wand motion and the visualizing of said other thing. It was impressive, but the completely time consuming joke of Polyjuice potion kept nagging at his throat, forcing him to release a quiet chuckle from the absurd of it.

Wizard could transform living creatures into inanimate objects, yet the concept of turning oneself into someone else required so much effort it was laughable.

His henged eyes scanned the written words with a heavy frown when he noticed the increased amount of theory inside the bound pages. At least, with transfiguration, there was still spell casting unlike the other subject that was infamous for it. He tried to guess a valid reason for this, recalling the lower year textbooks he had read during his visits to the bookstore, yet the only conclusion he could reach was because it was O.W.L. year.

Which didn't bode with him well at all.

He'll need to practice his spell casting as soon as he got past the border of the school grounds, due to the completely unnecessary age restriction for magic usage. He should've been a Sixth Year, exams be damned at that time, yet he landed himself with stacks and stacks of learning he needed to do at an unholy rate that no normal person or wizard could manage.

It was a good thing that he wasn't exactly either of them.

''To determine your skill level, Mr. Uchiha.'' Dumbledore had said.

Yeah, right. He knew that with him being busy with studies and practices, the old Headmaster could keep Sasuke tied down. Unfortunately, Albus wasn't aware of the Uchiha's other…'abilities', aside from the ones he had inherited with his Gaunt upbringing. The gleaming red eyes that were scanning the pages, the fingers that were flipping through book after book at an alarming rate, draining the knowledge right out of the pages – was one of them. What a lovely surprise it would be for the old coot when Sasuke will arrive at his pristine boarding school polished with all the information he needed to know for the school year, and all of the others he had 'skipped'.

The heat around his body rose when he pushed open the peeling wooden door to move to the side. Entering his not so fancy room, he glided to his bed, folding at the knees halfway. Reaching out his prosthetic hand to grasp the handle of the recently bought trunk, he pulled it out from under the spiral-full bed. Tossing the transfiguration textbook not too gently onto the already half full bottom, he pulled out more tomes he had bought and placed them inside the trunk's confinement. His fingers brushed his newly acquired wand, making him freeze up. He contemplated trying to use the simple levitation charm he had read about, but chose against it. Still, he withdrew the wooden stick pocking his rib from the inner pocket of his jacket, raising it up to his eye-level. The wand never staggered to the side, the polished straight wood reaching about twelve or so inches in length. He admired his wand for another fleeting moment, before placing it on his nightstand.

Shoving in the scrolls from the room's desk drawers he had put the night before, he placed several robes he had got from Madam Malkin's atop of the stack of books and parchments. Slamming the lid of the trunk with more power than necessary, Sasuke checked if the hinges didn't burst from the force. He had to restrain himself – here and at Hogwarts alike – or else he'll raise more unnecessary attention than needed, which was sure to come, considering he was starting Hogwarts in his Fifth Year.

Sasuke shrugged out of his cloak, revealing the Uchiha symbol encrusted into his jacket's back while kicking the discarded piece of material aside before stepping up to the abandoned wax candle on the aged desk. Raising his right hand to cup the side of his mouth, a bright little ball of flame generated from his lungs. He breathed in the oxygen of the room, making the fire lick the back of his throat, before spitting the fireball onto the string of the wax, lightening up the room considerably.

Sasuke reclined upon his uncomfortable chair, placing the book he held in his prosthetic fingers on his lap. He turned the tome to the front, narrowing his eyes when the letters he already knew were written blurred from the side effects of the pills he was pulling out of his pants' pocket. Placing the tablet on the tip of his tongue, the title of the book – ' **MAGICK MOSTE EVILE'** – came into focus. Even with the pill sliding down his throat, he didn't fully translate the words, yet he didn't mind.

A few minutes later, the wax started to drip due to the scorning heat of the licking flames, lighting up the small piece of paper by his feet which were placed on the desks surface. Sasuke propped his artificial elbow onto the armrest of the wooden chair, resting his cheek on the leathery skin of the prosthetic palm. Observing the train ticket leaving tomorrow morning to Hogwarts, he closed the heavily aged tome shut with an elaborate snap which resounded through the silent room.

Looking down at the book he had almost memorized, he raised it just above the fire, watching as the flames wormed a hole in the middle of the leather bond pages. The tome burnt lazily in his grasp, yet he did not pull away his fingers until the book was unrecognizable.

Dumbledore was better off being unaware of his little visits to Knockturn Alley, so were his little Order spies roaming around, keeping their watchful eyes on him constantly.

It took him three simple clones to evade their pathetic excuse of spying. If the blond twerp could sneak past a squad of experienced ANBU at academy level, did they really think they had a candle chance of keeping track of him with their level of subtlety? He knew why they were there, trying to pinpoint his next course of action, as if they expected him to blow up the entire alley if he got shoved by another child who was whining to their parents about a new broom.

There was no way in hell he'll allow them to receive such a satisfaction, however. He'll move subtly, right under their noses, and when they'll least expect it, strike if they proved to be a threat to him.

Blowing the candle out of it's misery, he picked the ticket from his desk as to not forget the small piece of paper with ' **Platform Nine and Three-Quarters'** printed onto it, before placing it next to his newly obtained wand. Plopping down onto the low quality mattress, he closed his eyes tiredly, letting sleep evade him as dreams filled his unconscious mind.

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 **A/N:**

 **Ndasuunye:** _Yes, actually, he does possess the powers fit for a God. But it isn't really in his nature since Shippuden to flaunt his battle prowess out of fights or before them, especially when nobody has ever witness something of his calibre in their lives. He's in a whole new world where he has to learn every turn and trick from scratch. It wouldn't be beneficial to strike down highly appraised authority if he doesn't want to be shipped to Azkaban and carry off being a wanted criminal all over again. But, I can assure you, Sasuke Uchiha is no pushover and there is a lot of ass kicking to come in the future, especially with the war brewing and closing in with each passing day. Hope that clears some things up!_


	3. Chapter III

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 _ **/An•guis/**_

 **Noun – Latin**

 _1\. a long limbless reptile that has no eyelids, a short tail, and jaws that are capable of considerable extension. Some snakes have a venomous bite._

 _2\. a treacherous or deceitful person._

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 **Chapter III**

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 _ **T**_ he transparent glass separating the sixteen-year-old and the outside world prevented the sooty steam from seeping inside the Hogwarts' Express. Even in the most secluded corner of the middle compartment carriage, the joyful hustle of children and teenagers entered his ears, the noise a distinct reminiscent of the time he had spent staying at the pub. The shrill sound of the last warning whistle alerted the students still standing on platform nine and three quarters that the train was about to depart with or without them. His dark eyes danced with hidden amusement as his potential peers gave out muffled squeals, hurrying with their last farewells before boarding the smoke emitting transportation.

There was a peculiar stirring in the depths of his belly as the cloud of steam dissolved, revealing the expressions of various guardians who stayed behind to watch the train take off, proudness dancing across their features. He remembered all the times he had wished his own father would have regarded him with an identical expression such as the older wizards and witches still standing on the platform sported, before brushing the longing feeling into the back of his mind.

He shifted his eyes to observe his more than lively environment – which was filled with deep green garments of clothing in an obvious statement of house pride, with a few traces of yellow and blue here and there – before turning his attention to the roar of laughter resounding all the way from the other carriages of the train. He peered out of the cool window, narrowing his eyes when his onyx gaze landed on the shaggy black dog chasing the scarlet train in delight, before the metal transportation turned a sharp corner.

Some of the Slytherin students mirrored his actions, yet quickly looked away as the excited dog didn't bring the same sort of amusement to them as it did to the Gryffindor house just a closed door away. He leaned into his cushioned seat, flicking up his standard – house color lacking – black robes behind him to reveal long legs in dark required trousers. His long fingers – prosthetic and his own flesh – steepled together unconsciously as he placed his elbows on the small wooden surface of the train's table.

He couldn't quite recall the last time he was surrounded by such infuriating clatter, yet a sense of déjà vu of his less than enjoyable academy days flashed before his vision. The stares that some of the students directed at him were those of curiosity – seeing as they couldn't place a name to his face and the obvious fact he wasn't a First Year – yet half of the females regarded him with the all too familiar gaze that he loathed to no end.

The ruckus died down over time when the rest of the students seemed to find themselves a stable place to rest in for the remaining of hours it took to get to the castle. Relaxing slightly when he could finally make out his own thoughts from the noisy chatter of the Hufflepuff Third Year and a Slytherin Fourth Year girl, he let his shoulders slouch.

Once, the door to the spacious compartment was opened by a bushy haired girl and a red haired male. They seemed to be supervising their behavior as the ginger haired boy strutted around, while his companion scowled at him disapprovingly. A few of the Slytherins – seeing as the carriage was overrun by them – shot open hostile looks at them, making the two Gryffindors rather uncomfortable if their quickly changing body language was anything to go by. After that, the only ones patrolling the almost strictly snake den were two Fifth Year Slytherins.

Sasuke soon realized that the duos of students were so called 'Prefects' that he had read about in one of the volumes of ' **HOGWARTS: A HISTORY** ', that were supposed to keep order among the student body.

Yet he didn't miss the hints of supremacy the pale blonde was idly showing, or the sugar coated threats the Fifth Year girl threaded with years of practice to the Hufflepuff girl sitting on the other side of the aisle from him.

As time dragged on, Sasuke looked out the western window at the rapidly setting sun as he skimmed through one of his textbooks he had taken from his trunk that rested on the rack above him. He did not miss the calculating looks of barely hidden confusion from the male Slytherin Prefect every time he surveyed the carriage when his eyes landed on him, until the sky clouded in inky dark rain clouds. Sasuke didn't look up when he heard the opposite cushioned seat dip with the weight of the blonde, until his ears picked up the arrogant drawl of the other male.

"I don't seem to recall ever seeing you around here." The blonde stated, looking pointedly at the textbook resting loosely in his left artificial hand. The dark haired male clenched his jaw when the intruding boy regarded the ring resting on his index finger with mild interest, causing Sasuke to shut his book with a loud snap.

"I'm new here." His tone was clipped, each syllable dropped with precision, the alien English language rolling from his tongue with ease. The blonde looked thoughtful for a few moments, flashes of confusion morphing his aristocratic features. "I wasn't aware Hogwarts allowed new students, especially during OWLs Year." His eyes shot down to the Fifth Year Potions textbook Sasuke placed on the small table between them, that he himself had in possession.

"They usually don't." Sasuke agreed with a vague lilt in his tone. "But I'm a special case, Malfoy." The Uchiha held back the smirk threatening to emerge on his face as the Malfoy's heir's eyes widened at the mention of his family name. Sasuke recalled the various descriptions of all the noble houses in wizarding Britain – frowning deeply at the words of madness and insanity written next to the Gaunt family name – and the prominent distinct feature of pale blonde hair running in the Malfoy family for several centuries

"Indeed." His peer nodded his head slowly, before a smirk curled up on his face. "I couldn't help but notice your accent, you're a foreigner, aren't you?" The raven haired male nodded his head slightly, indicating that the Malfoy was correct in his assumption.

"It would seem I don't need to introduce myself to you, seeing as you already know my last name." The blonde extended his right hand for the dark youth to shake. "But it is customary to introduce oneself to a potential…" The blonde paused, as if searching for the right word to use. " _Friend_." The undertone of the statement was well understood by the Uchiha, even if his words were laced with an innocent flare to them.

"I agree." Sasuke said, his dark gaze judging his every nuance and reaction. "Sasuke Uchiha." His gaze didn't waver, even when his peer's face scurried into a frown – trying to determine his blood status no doubt – as Sasuke grasped his still awaiting hand in a steel grip. A smirk lighted up his usually blank face when the blonde gave a rather meek shake. "Draco Malfoy." He introduced himself with an arrogant tone which didn't match his intimidated form that cowered slightly from the heavily dark gaze.

"A pleasure." Sasuke forced out, figuring that having one of the – if not **the** – most influential families as an ally was highly beneficial.

Even if the company of a spoiled brat was completely, personally unwelcome and uncalled for.

Minutes passed in barely comfortable silence before Draco stood up to take his leave, his nod indicating a farewell which made Sasuke smirk slightly. It would seem that he had recieved a sort of approval from the blonde. The Prefect obviously labeled him as a half-blood – pureblood at best – which seemed to suffice to the Malfoy enough to not cut off all ties with the Uchiha after the first meeting. Sasuke twirled the ring wrapped around his prosthetic finger in thought, contemplating his own potential allies he should require.

Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours as the train rattled and swayed along the road. The Uchiha long since tossed the textbook back into his quite light – for reasons the rest of the students shouldn't know – trunk, preferring to look out the window instead. Soon, the lamps above his head automatically lighted up, making it harder to make out the dark scenery even more. The calm of the students started to dissolve, leading Sasuke to believe that their arrival will come sooner than he had expected. Withdrawing the plastic container of the magic-infused pills when the mild chatter of the Slytherin students started to sound like total gibberish, he plopped the dreadfully tasting tablet into his mouth. Closing his onyx colored eyes as the knowledge of the foreign English language started to come back to him in waves as all the different words engraved themselves in his brain for a few hours.

He frowned as a mild headache started to form at an alarming rate, vowing to learn the dreadful language as soon as time permitted him to as a voice echoed through the train, telling the students of their soon arrival. Not a five full minutes passed when the train came to an abrupt stop, making Sasuke look out the rain covered window. As he suspected, they have finally arrived to their destination. Students from the further carriage spilled into theirs, excitement etched into their faces as they shoved lightly to fasten the pace. The Uchiha stood up, grasping his trunk's handle before hauling the container from the rack above his head with his real hand – even when it was required to leave his luggage on the train, he wasn't naïve as to leave his research with the likes of Dumbledore. He, like many others waited patiently for the exit of the train to unclog, all the while letting himself drift into the string of students paying him no mind.

When his leather covered right foot met the solid flooring of the cold and damp platform, he scanned his surroundings, wondering which direction should he take. He saw the little First Years heading down a narrow path, making the gears in the shinobi's mind turned in contemplation at the prospect of following the Firsties, considering that he too needed to be sorted into a house. Activating his bloodline limit in the blackness of the evening, he saw older students walking in the other direction, but before he could form another thought, he heard his name being called in the distance.

He turned his scarlet gaze to the path the small eleven year olds took, only for a beacon of pale blonde to enter his vision. Releasing a small breath of cool air that formed a mist in front of his schooled blank face, he traversed the small platform and reached Draco in several quick strides, his Sharingan deactivating before the other male had the chance to catch a glimpse of the unnatural color his eyes were moments ago. He nodded in greeting as the blonde gave him a smirk, the other Slytherin Prefect by his side.

Sasuke scanned her features, before looking back to the face of the Malfoy. He felt the female's eyes on him, but paid no mind as he was used to the dream-filled gazes directed at him from a rather tender age. "How about we crash a lift?" He gestured to the small fleet of boats ready to depart the moment the female Professor barked out a command of 'forwards'. The brown haired girl looked up with a hint of uncertainty at the prospect of getting caught and getting her authority stripped away on her very first day while Sasuke stared blankly ahead where the rest of the Fifth year Prefects helped the first timers board the self-sailing boats. Without uttering a single word, he tossed his trunk carelessly onto the wooden boat which rocked when it supported Sasuke's weight.

The water around him seemed to rise when a First Year boy joined him, staring wide-eyed at the obviously older boy. Sasuke looked down at him with his disarming eyes, making the small male shift rather uncomfortably. He could see his newly made acquaintance at the shore arguing with the two Gryffindor Prefects from before as the bushy haired girl threatened to report him and the Slytherin girl for their less than acceptable behavior towards the frightened First Years.

A sardonic smirk curled itself onto his face when the rather disgusting insult of the Gryffindor's blood purity was hurled at her by Malfoy, making Sasuke's guess about the blonde's political views confirm.

Did he really want to get himself tangled with supremacist sycophants for the rest of his educational years?

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 _ **I**_ n his defense, he already suspected this result ever since he cracked open the first volume of the countless of tomes about the ancient school he currently resided in.

Tugging off the emerald green and silver tie that adorned his neck moments ago, he observed the lavish common room of his new house.

 _Slytherin_.

What an entirely unsurprisingly surprise.

Ambitious as he was, he suspected that the ugly, faded brown hat would of considered him a Gryffindor after the events that fell into place during the war, yet the cunningness of his nature seemed to push through the possibility of becoming the golden red lion of Hogwarts. When he sat there, on a stool in the rubbish-stuffed office of Albus Dumbledore with the old-fashioned hat filled with patch-jobs resting on top of his head, Hufflepuff was not uttered a single time.

There was an ominous suggestion of Ravenclaw at one point, but the prying hat brushed the suggestion off when he dug deeper into his head. All the while, chuckles and incredulous laughter filled his thoughts as the sorting hat scouted through his memories, never before having witnessed the sight of a shinobi's mind. With a breathless giggle and a promise of secrecy from spilling a single thing he saw in the Uchiha's mind, the aged hat gave a shout of "SLYTHERIN", much to the grimness of the equally aged Headmaster. It was obvious from Dumbledore's expression that the result was much expected as it was to Sasuke himself.

After that was done, the two wizards entered the awaiting Great Hall, walking side-by-side before Albus pointed out the Slytherin table to which Sasuke walked over to, catching the sight of a waving, ring-filled hand of one Draco Malfoy calling him over yet again. He reluctantly sat down between Draco and a male with light brown hair who introduced himself as Theodore Nott later that evening. He figured it was best to stick with the more prominent students that bore more powerful surnames, because even though they were rather annoying like the others, at least they were distinctly more useful than the other lot.

What a Slytherin thing to do, indeed.

With Malfoy's uncanny sort of delusion that he was under his wing of sort, the other students opened up to him in a heartbeat – to his dismay – causing an eruption of questions to befall on him to which he didn't feel a least bit obligated to answer.

Yet an unexpected obstacle seemed to worm its way into the school that placed even Albus Dumbledore on edge. And that was the interference of the Ministry of Magic. When Dolores Umbridge stood up from her seat at the teachers' table, the first and only thought that came to mind during the length of her speech was that Naruto had ordered an abomination of a toad he calls a great summoning to spy on him, because no genetical excuses Sakura would've tried to tell him could explain the toad-like features of the horrid woman in the cardigan. Digesting the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher's words and the rest of his meal that was filled with pointless chatter, Sasuke soon came to realize that the Ministry's interference was caused by the old Headmaster and the boy with the round glasses just a table or so away.

He had messy hair, just as it looked like in the black and white moving pictures in the Daily Prophet that he had read once or twice, sporting vibrant green eyes from behind the lenses of his glasses. With Sasuke's sharp vision, he could detect a scar on his forehead that was covered with the locks of his dark hair. The standard Gryffindor tie was tied loosely around his neck, that his two friends that adorned Prefect badges also wore. He seemed to sense Sasuke's unwavering stare, due to the fact he turned his own eyes to him. They shared a look for several seconds, making Sasuke's eyebrows pinch in confusion when the boy rubbed his forehead almost as if soothing a rising headache. The Uchiha's did a double check to see if his Sharingan didn't accidentally activate, yet realized that they were in fact, not activated.

His friends sent the new member of the Slytherin house fleeting looks as Sasuke tried to recall the name of the boy, before it clicked. Harry Potter. The boy-who-lived, more commonly known now as the boy-who-lied. The two of them – Dumbledore including – claimed that the 'Dark Lord' has returned, which the Ministry heavily denied. Sasuke paused in his musings. Voldemort. That was the name of the Dark Wizard that had caused the First Wizarding War. Sasuke had a mild feeling in his gut that it was in fact, entirely possible – considering the return of Madara Uchiha who was presumed dead after his Battle with his long time rival Hashirama.

Yet he came back stronger than ever and any doubts that the ninja have had of his return were crushed into the dust like countless of lives that were lost in the war.

Now, sitting in the rather comfortable armchair placed besides the window, he asserted what would be the next course of action he should take. On his lap rested a book he had took from his trunk that he had stashed under his bed in his dorm that he shared with Nott and Zabini. He was quite glad he didn't get roomed with the likes of Malfoy – his boasting was infuriating to no end.

He gazed out the window that gave him a generous eyeful of the underwater view of the Great Lake. The body of water surrounding the spacious room gave a green tinge to it, as well as a cold atmosphere. A sneer curled onto his face when he saw a a tentacle swish by. He didn't have much love for the cephalopod mollusks after the brief encounter with the Eight Tails. When the sound of the common room entrance being opened and closed became fewer by each passing minute, Sasuke decided that it was best to go to bed earlier than usual.

Entering the dorm room, he paused in his step, giving a nod of greeting to his more favored housemates that were more collected – if you could call Zabini that – than the rest. Theodore Nott looked up from the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook to acknowledge the Uchiha, before burying his nose back into the pages. From the frown clipped onto his expression, the brown haired Slytherin seemed to share his disdain for the lack of practical work that they'll be performing during their DADA lessons for the duration of the year. On the other hand, Blaise Zabini was unpacking his clothes from his trunk, turning around to give his brown owl that was perched on his shoulder a treat or two from time to time.

''I was beginning to wonder when you'll be joining us, Uchiha.'' Blaise shot a boyish grin, which was dismissed when the only response he received was a muted 'hn' from the said male. He traversed to his bed at the far off corner, noting the slight vain streak in the dark skinned boy when he stepped next to the full-length mirror and examined his person. Nott gave out a snort of amusement which was followed by a snarky comment on Blaise's unchallengeable ability of posing, which resulted in painting Zabini's face a furious red.

Blocking out the unwelcome banter of the two other occupants of the room, Sasuke placed his wand under his pillow, before drawing the silky green hangings surrounding his four-poster bed. He examined the slightly different coloring of his hands in comparison, before removing the Gaunt family ring from his leathery index finger of his left hand. Resting the ring next to the cherry wood wand, he placed his head onto the quite comfortable cushion, not bothering to bid goodnight to his roomates as he drifted off to sleep.

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 **A/N:**  
 **Kuroneko:** _Thank you so much! I de-aged him to sixteen just for that reason, actually. :D As much as I love Sasuke, he needs to have at least a few restrictions from time to time, otherwise the story would become quite dull._  
 **Ndasuunye:** _Sasuke from the start was very selective on the matter of what is and what is not a waste of his time. He wouldn't necessarily find every spell useful to him, that's why he 'partially memorized' persay. When I say memorize, it actually means he could recite every description of wand movement and incantation that his eyes had grazed over in those pages, and lemme tell you, that book isn't thin either! Some of the spells he ruled out as uncanny, yet the effects of them he had read over for future reference if it was cast against him. Hope that clears some things up for you, thank you for reviewing!_


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